


Blood Sugar

by skeletondust



Category: Justice League (2017)
Genre: i couldn't get it out of my head so here ya go, i had this idea after seeing the movie, just some fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 13:52:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12985428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skeletondust/pseuds/skeletondust
Summary: After a long mission, Bruce finds Barry in the kitchen of the Hall of Justice early in the morning.





	Blood Sugar

Bruce tried to ignore the dawning feeling of consciousness tugging at the edges of his mind. He had no clue what time it actually was, but he knew it was way too goddamn early to be waking up. Frankly, he should have been out cold, what with the arduous three day mission they had just returned from. Exhaustion should have been keeping him asleep for a few more hours, at the very least. But something apparently more important than blissful sleep was pulling him towards wakefulness.

After what felt like hours but was probably just minutes of trying to fight it off and fall back asleep, Bruce relented. He sighed, slowly pushing himself up so he was sitting before opening his eyes.

If it weren’t for the moonlight filtering in through the windows the room would have been pitch black. Still the middle of the night, then. A quick glance at the clock on his nightstand confirmed this, the bright white numbers reading 2:16.

He sighed again, finally noticing just how dry his throat felt. So that’s what had woken him up. Dehydration.

He threw his covers off, pulled a bathrobe on over his pajamas, and started to make his way down to the kitchen. He could have just gotten some water from the tap in his bathroom, but that didn’t seem like enough. A calming cup of tea and maybe a bite to eat sounded a lot better.

Bruce was as quiet as he could manage as he made his way down the halls, not wanting to wake up his teammates. While only he lived in Wayne Manor- or, as it was now called, the Hall of Justice- full time, he had made sure when they were remodeling that the bedrooms had remained bedrooms and some of the other rooms were converted into extra bedrooms so that members had a place to rest and recover before and after missions. After three days of near endless fighting and a late return, everyone had been more than glad to crash in the manor for the night.

It didn’t take long to get to the kitchen despite the distance from the upper floors and his slow, tired pace. He paused for a second when he noticed the lights were on. Seemed like he wasn’t the only one who had gotten up for a late-night drink. He wondered vaguely who it was and decided to answer that question by continuing with his original intentions and entering the kitchen.

What he had expected was one of the others sitting at the kitchen island drinking something and maybe eating something, or someone standing at the stove making some tea or hot chocolate or some other preferred hot beverage.

What he  _ hadn’t  _ expected to find was Barry Allen curled up on the floor, surrounded by empty wrappers and containers, stuffing his face with food. Bruce stood in the doorway and just stared, his tired mind barely able to comprehend the sight. He had seen his fair share of weirdness over the years, from exploding penguins to a woman with green skin to an insane man masquerading as a clown. Hell, he had lived with teenagers, and that was as weird as it got. Yet never in his life had he seen anything stranger than a scrawny twenty-something in an oversized hoodie eating enough food to feed a small village on his kitchen floor at two in the morning.

Not knowing a proper way to react, Bruce just cleared his throat. Barry nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound, dropping a half eaten piece of pie and scrambling until he was sitting. He shoved his hood off so he could see whoever was in the room.

“Oh! Uh, hi,” He greeted awkwardly through a half-chewed mouthful of pie. He finished chewing and swallowed. “This looks weird, doesn’t it?”

“That's the least you could say,” Bruce grumbled, finally moving into the kitchen.

Barry let out a laugh, a nervous one. He was still very much used to being alone and unjudged for his arguably strange behavior, for the most part, and wasn’t quite used to having to explain himself to others. He wasn’t particularly good at it yet. He wasn’t particularly good at social interaction in general, and Bruce couldn’t really blame him for that. People were complicated.

“Something to do with your blood sugar, that speed force thing you mentioned?” The older man asked, attempting to sound as casual as possible to put the young man at ease. He moved towards the cabinets to grab a glass to further the effect, and to get the water he had come down to the kitchen to get in the first place.

“Yeah, yeah,” Barry answered, nodding his head. “It, uh, I need like, a  _ ton  _ of calories and a  _ ton  _ of sugar everyday to keep up my energy. Those aren’t accurate measurements of how much I actually need to eat in a day but uh, yeah, it’s a lot.”

“I bet. Running that fast is bound to take up a lot of energy,” Bruce said, nodding. He filled his glass and took a sip, feeling relieved as the dryness in his throat started to fade. Then he remembered he wanted a cup of tea, rolled his eyes at himself, and set about making that.

“Yeah, it’s- it can be kind of difficult to keep up, ya know, I can’t really afford that much food?” He was starting to ramble, probably out of a mix of nervousness and tiredness. Even speedsters needed their sleep. “But I usually cover it. And being here is pretty great because you have a  _ ridiculous  _ amount of food, like, it’s so much.” He paused for a brief second. “Wait, it’s alright if I’m eating all this, right? I mean, there’s other people who probably eat more than the average person here, too, and we did just get off a mission-”

Bruce cut him off with a wave of a hand before he could work himself up into a tizzy. “Just don’t throw up on the floor from eating too much.” He glanced briefly at all the trash and crumbs littered on the floor. “And clean up after yourself.”

“Right, right, yeah! No problem!” Barry sighed. He seemed relieved, calmer now that he knew he wasn’t crossing some unknown boundary or breaking some unspoken rule. He grabbed a piece of pie, a new one, separate from the one now splattered on the tile floor, and continued eating.

They were mostly silent for the next few minutes as Bruce made his tea and Barry continued his late night feast. It was too early for making tea the proper way, so tea bags would have to do. As the water reached a boil, he dropped a bag of sleepy time tea in his mug. He paused for a second, then reached into the cabinet for a second mug and another bag of tea. A few more minutes and he handed the second mug to Barry, who looked up at him in surprise, eyebrows raised.

“Green tea,” The older man responded. “Good for energy, and better at keeping you hydrated than soda.”

“Oh. Um, thanks.” The kid smiled at him. It may have been a bit awkwardly, but it was clearly genuine.

Bruce grabbed his own tea and started to walk out of the room. “Goodnight, Barry. Make sure you get some sleep.”

“Yeah, I will! Night!”

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't get this idea out of my head after seeing Justice League. I was going to make this story longer, with more conversation between Bruce and Barry and maybe parts with Barry and the other Justice League members, but my classes have been keeping me busy and finals are coming up later this week, and I just wanted to get something non-school related finished.  
> I hope you enjoyed it!  
> -Mel


End file.
